When Flu Bugs Bite
by Arianna Malone
Summary: The tougher they are, the harder they fall. Brennan comes down with the flu at the tail end of an out of town investigation. Will Seeley Booth willingly play Florence Nightingale? A HurtComfort story. NOW REVISED!
1. Chapter 1: The Blame Game

WHEN FLU BUGS BITE by: Arianna Malone

Disclaimer: I have only borrowed the characters Temperance Brennan and Seeley Booth. I do not own either of them. All I did was ask if the three of us could hang out for a while. I'll see to it that they make it home safely to their real owners – Josephson Entertainment and Far Field Productions in association with Twentieth Century Fox Television.

A/N This story is fluff, nothing but fluff. I am living by my credo "Plot? I don't need no stinkin' plot." If you are hoping for a case story, you have come to the wrong place. If you want realism, well…you'll probably be disappointed as well.

Chapter 1: The Blame Game

La Crosse County Airport

La Crosse, Wisconsin

Temperance Brennan was an adult. That was one fact that she never questioned. She also defined herself as a scientist.

Both of those roles meant something extremely important: Her world was composed of facts; it was a haven of logic and a dwelling place of reason.

Ergo, any conclusion that she reached, based on a logical understanding of the facts must be well-founded.

Currently, Brennan had concluded that Agent Seeley Booth was to blame for her current situation. Utterly and completely, this was entirely his fault.

She'd tell him so, too, if he ever found his way to the airport.

Of course, if he missed their flight, she wasn't going to wait for him. He could rot in Wisconsin, for all she cared.

Tempe huddled down further in her uncomfortable seat, wrapping her jacket around her to maximize the warmth it offered. The tickle in her throat was back. She tried to ignore it, to pretend that it was just a piece of errant dust that she could swallow away.

Nope, no good.

She covered her mouth as she hacked and barked her way through the coughing fit. As she finished, her breath wheezed through her abused throat. If she had been home, alone and unobserved, she would have given way to a mournful whimper. Gods, she hurt. Her throat burned, her head throbbed, and her body was one big ache.

When she had collapsed into bed last night, it was only her throat and her exhaustion that gave her a clue that something was wrong. It was a big clue, too. She had been so tired that she had skipped dinner, found her way to her hotel room and closed her eyes at 7:30! She didn't open them again until her cell phone's shrill tone penetrated her dreams at eight the next morning.

Booth had been calling to see if she wanted to go with him to the local police department – a kind gesture that took into consideration her desire to be included in every aspect of the cases they worked together. At that moment, though, she hated any person who dared disturb her slumber and brusquely told him no. If she had been more coherent, she might have noticed his long pause before he offered to meet up with her at the airport later in the day. But, she didn't. Tempe simply grunted a response and hung up.

Actually, she was lucky that he had called and woken her up. When she rolled out of bed and proceeded to get ready for the flight home, she found that everything seemed to take twice as long as it normally would have. The worst part was how often she found herself, sitting slumped on the bed, not quite remembering sitting down, but understanding that she was trying to gather more energy to continue with her packing.

That's what had started her train of thought on its trip to "Let's Blame Booth" station. If only he hadn't included her on this case, if only, instead of dragging her along, he had sent the remains to her at the Jeffersonian, if only he hadn't had the bright idea to visit the bars EVERY SINGLE NIGHT over the weekend, trying to connect with the college students and gather information. A small voice chimed in with her litany of 'if onlys'.

_If only you hadn't insisted on tagging along, wanting to help find the killer and give the families and friends of the six dead female college students some closure._

"Oh shut up!" She replied, irritated. "It isn't my fault that I caught the flu." Hearing her voice in the empty hotel room made her groan. Now she was talking to herself. Fabulous! She was sick AND she was losing her mind.

By the time she had gotten to the airport – a dinky little building that had a common waiting area for all three gates – her sore throat and exhaustion had been joined by the muscle aches and – worst of all – an excruciating, pounding head. When she wasn't blaming Booth for everything under the sun, Tempe found herself thinking rather mournfully "I want to be home. I want my cat. I want my bed. I want to go home."

It was better to be mad at Booth.

Time passed, and the final boarding call for Flight 465 forced Tempe to her feet. Booth was late, and unless he walked through the door in the next moment, or used his G-man powers to delay the flight, he would be stuck in Podunk, Wisconsin until tomorrow. A mean, nasty part of Temperance Brennan thought that it would serve him right. She handed over her plane ticket, and made her way out to the tiny, regional jet that would start her on the first leg of her journey home.

TBC…


	2. Chapter 2: Seeley Booth Takes Stock

WHEN FLU BUGS BITE by: Arianna Malone

Disclaimer: I have only borrowed the characters Temperance Brennan and Seeley Booth. I do not own either of them. All I did was ask if the three of us could hang out for a while. I'll see to it that they make it home safely to their real owners – Josephson Entertainment and Far Field Productions in association with Twentieth Century Fox Television.

A/N This story is fluff, nothing but fluff. I am living by my credo "Plot? I don't need no stinkin' plot." If you are hoping for a case story, you have come to the wrong place. If you want realism, well…you'll probably be disappointed as well.

Chapter 2: Seeley Booth Takes Stock

Seeley Booth was late…he was very, very late. When he finally finished the paperwork for returning the rental car, he had to dash for the airport check-in. Granted, it was a tiny airport (he'd been lucky that the car rental place had actually been located on airport property), and there was only so far that he could dash. With only carry-on items, Seeley made his way to the gate, flashing his badge, flashing charm. With only seconds to spare, he managed to make his way onto the jet before the cabin was sealed for take-off.

God, he hated travel.

Bones was in her seat and, unless she was faking it, she was already dozing. He settled himself into his seat, across the aisle from the forensic anthropologist and strapped in for the brief flight to Chicago's O'Hare airport. Because of their location – B.F.E., Wisconsin – Booth and Brennan were required to layover somewhere before they could reach their final destination. Thankfully, the flight they had gotten was one with only a single layover. One of the other, less appealing options was a flight plan that would have had them stopping in three different cities before arriving home in DC.

_Thanks, but no thanks,_ thought the agent. He wouldn't have been that desperate to get home.

Now that he was settled, and the flight attendant had finished illustrating the safety procedures, Booth leaned over to tap Bones on the shoulder.

There was no reaction.

Booth poked at her arm again and earned a muttered response of some sort – he was pretty sure it wasn't English. On the third try, as he jabbed her a little harder than necessary, Brennan finally opened her eyes and looked at him.

Actually, it wasn't so much a look as it was a scowl.

If looks could kill Agent Seeley Booth would have been vaporized before you could say "What's that mean?"

Before he got a word out, Brennan said "Nice of you to show up."

Then she closed her eyes, and pretended to go back to sleep.

He was pretty sure that she was pretending.

What the hell had gotten into her?

Not wanting to risk getting his head chewed off by the woman across from him, Booth began to mentally review the past week.

He'd been given this case, and had been told to utilize Dr. Brennan as necessary.

He'd gone to the Jefferesonian and had broken the news that he was taking her way from her work once again.

She grumbled about it, once again.

Dr. Goodman had ordered her to work with the FBI and with Agent Booth…once again.

Like all the other cases that they had worked on, Brennan seemed to get over the fact that she was losing time for her 'real' work at the Jeffersonian lab.

She tormented him and made him lose his appetite over lunch by telling disgusting stories about her work with human remains.

He retaliated by talking her into bar-hopping three nights in a row. He knew she hated crowds with a passion. He also knew she couldn't resist being in on the action of talking to the college students and gathering clues.

She had taken it out on him by ruminating on the cultural implications of college student drinking habits.

He had evened the score by flirting a little bit more than absolutely necessary with the pretty little co-eds.

In the end, they got their man, and wrapped up the case in a neat, little, prosecutable package.

That's when things had gotten strange. And, with Brennan along for the ride, that was saying something. She didn't do normal so well on a good day.

In the past, once the case was wrapped up, both agent and anthropologist would find a hole in the wall bar and unwind from their work. It was rare for either one of them to discuss the case, but it was nice – at least Seeley had thought – to have someone around while he processed the violence, the insanity, and the sadness of the human race. It was companionable.

Last night, though, she had completely blown him off. She'd said she was tired and just wanted to go back to the hotel. Disappointed – and hating that she could affect him to that degree – Booth dropped Bones off and went out by himself for a while.

It wasn't the same.

So, he went back to his room, and tried to go to bed early. In the end, he fell asleep after one o'clock, in the middle of an episode of Cheers.

He was up by six, went for a run, and then received a call from the chief of police. She needed him to go over just a couple of things before he left.

So, he did what he generally did when he worked a case with Bones. He called her so that she could come along for the ride. Bones always wanted to tag along. She had a bizarre fascination with crime solving.

A little voice in the back of his head suggested that he had a bizarre fascination with her bizarre fascination.

"Oh, shut up." He mumbled. When Booth heard his own voice – out-loud – he looked furtively around to see if anyone had witnessed his lunacy. Talking to oneself in public was such a bad idea. He reined in his errant thoughts and got himself back on track.

So, Bones always wanted to tag along. Only this morning, she had snarled at him; she didn't want to go. Figuring that she wasn't a morning person, he counted off ten seconds, waiting for her to wake up, to change her mind, to be delighted at being included in the world of law enforcement.

She never did change her mind. Ten seconds is a long time, and Booth was surprised when there was no response to the silence on his end. Finally, he suggested that they meet at the airport. Bones grunted at him, actually grunted, and then hung up.

What the hell did that mean? Was he supposed to translate that grunt into actual English? Was it a yes? Was it a no? What the hell was up with her?

As the plane began its descent, Seeley realized that his review of the case had gotten him no where. Bones' behavior was still a mystery. And, he decided, he was kind of annoyed. No, make that really annoyed. They were friends, kind of. No one should treat their friends like this.

His mental grousing continued as people passed him by to deplane. Temperance hadn't stirred. Obviously, she was really committed to playing 'possum. That was yet another annoyance. Once the plane cleared out, Booth stood up. He put his hand on Brennan's shoulder and shook her.

"C'mon Bones. It's time to get up." He scolded her roughly. Her head lolled over and came to rest briefly on his hand before Temperance completely returned to consciousness. In those few seconds, Seeley Booth both solved the mystery and began to mentally kick himself. Bones wasn't sulking. She was sick.

TBC…


	3. Chapter 3: A Juice in the Hand

WHEN FLU BUGS BITE by: Arianna Malone

Disclaimer: I have only borrowed the characters Temperance Brennan and Seeley Booth. I do not own either of them. All I did was ask if the three of us could hang out for a while. I'll see to it that they make it home safely to their real owners – Josephson Entertainment and Far Field Productions in association with Twentieth Century Fox Television.

A/N This story is fluff, nothing but fluff. I am living by my credo "Plot? I don't need no stinkin' plot." If you are hoping for a case story, you have come to the wrong place. If you want realism, well…you'll probably be disappointed as well.

Chapter 3: A Juice in the Hand is Worth Two in the Store

It seemed as though only a few minutes had passed since Temperance had been poked awake by an annoying federal agent. If she remembered properly, she had been a little snarky…not necessarily creative, but she had said something with a great deal of attitude. Thinking back, Brennan could only hope that it had made sense. She was pretty sure that Booth would forgive her. After all, they took verbal shots at each other all the time. Generally, there was nothing to forgive.

"Hey, Brennan," Booth's voice was hesitant, "you still with me?"

She looked up and saw a look of concern on his face. She shook her head to clear away the cobwebs.

"Uh, yeah. Sorry. Let me get my things." Tempe noticed that her voice sounded a bit rusty. She cleared her throat and tried speaking again. "Um, did you get any sleep?"

Booth was already reaching for her bags in the overhead compartment. He stiffened at her question, but answered after a brief moment. "Nah, I wasn't that tired." There was another odd pause and then he carelessly added, "I was thinking about the case."

Somehow he had managed to gather both his bags as well as hers and herd her out of the plane despite her futile attempts at reclaiming her things. When it became clear that he wasn't going to release his hostages, Brennan gave up. She was too tired to fight. In fact, as another round of coughing bubbled up in her throat, she was too preoccupied with staying upright as she coughed. Was dizziness a normal symptom of the flu? It had been so long since she'd been sick, she just couldn't remember.

Wheezing to a stop and leaning against a conveniently placed wall, Tempe took several deep breaths. By the time she wasn't so focused on the pain in her throat and her spinning head, Brennan realized that Booth had stopped moving forward. In fact, he had moved back to where she had stopped, deposited their bags on the floor, and had his hands on her shoulders, keeping her from swaying. He was looking concerned once again.

Brennan found that she was thinking about how sad he always looked when he was worried, like a little boy who was afraid he'd broken something and wouldn't be able to fix it. Once again, she shook her head to clear her mind.

"I'm sorry." She said. She hated being sick. She hated anyone seeing her when she was sick.

"S'okay," Booth told her.

Without commenting about her inability to keep up, he picked up their bags once again and set a slower pace to their gate. Brennan sagged into an open chair, and Booth set the bags down by her feet.

"Can you watch the bags for me?" Seeley asked, sounding as though if she said yes, she'd be doing him a huge favor.

Tempe nodded, and folded her arms over her chest. She was feeling so cold again. She didn't watch as he walked away, but solemnly regarded their luggage. She really wanted to close her eyes, but she'd promised to watch their stuff. With a sigh, she began to rearrange the four bags, making sure that they all touched some part of her legs and feet. If she did close her eyes, hopefully she would feel if the bags were moved.

Temperance didn't close her eyes, although she was pretty well zoned out on the movement of the people around her. Her cough was coming more frequently, but it was better now that she was sitting down. At least, she didn't get so dizzy. She didn't notice how much time had passed since Booth had trotted off to…did she even know where he had been going? The bathroom, probably. Ah well, she couldn't bring herself to worry just yet.

It was only several minutes later when Booth sat down beside her. He had a plastic sack, obviously from one of the little shops on the concourse. She thought about being curious, but couldn't seem to manage it, even as Seeley began to rifle through the bag. He picked out a small bottle that rattled. He opened it, and shook two tablets into his hand.

"Here," he said.

Brennan looked at him without comprehension.

Seeing that she was going to need some help with things, Booth reached out and gently grabbed her right hand. After he turned it palm-side up, he dropped the two pills on to it.

Brennan looked at the pills and then looked at Booth.

"It's aspirin," he said gently. "It'll help bring down your fever." He paused. "It might help with the headache as well."

Tempe nodded. She brought the pills up to her mouth, planning to dry swallow them, when Booth stopped her again.

"Sorry," he said, "I've got some juice for you to wash that down with." He deftly opened the bottle of orange juice that he pulled from the bag and offered it to her.

Brennan took a swallow of the juice, enjoying the cool liquid on her throat. She listened as Booth explained what else he'd picked up for her.

"I thought some cough drops would be helpful. That's a pretty mean bark you've got there. I also grabbed some tissues, even though I don't think you're sniffling all that much. I thought about getting you some tea, but I thought that that might be a bad idea, what with the juice and all. You'd be getting up so often to use the bathroom that you wouldn't be able to rest."

Brennan digested his words, and looked at the bottle of juice in her hand. Suddenly, she was fumbling with the bottle cap, trying close the bottle up so that she could set it on the floor. A tear was already making its way down her cheek, and Temperance felt more threatening. Suddenly, she did have the sniffles, only it wasn't because of the flu bug. She pulled her knees into her chest and buried her face in her knees. She wouldn't sob, she wouldn't, but the tears were coming, and she didn't know how to stop them.

TBC…


	4. Chapter 4: G Man Makes a Plan

WHEN FLU BUGS BITE by: Arianna Malone

Disclaimer: I have only borrowed the characters Temperance Brennan and Seeley Booth. I do not own either of them. All I did was ask if the three of us could hang out for a while. I'll see to it that they make it home safely to their real owners – Josephson Entertainment and Far Field Productions in association with Twentieth Century Fox Television.

A/N This story is fluff, nothing but fluff. I am living by my credo "Plot? I don't need no stinkin' plot." If you are hoping for a case story, you have come to the wrong place. If you want realism, well…you'll probably be disappointed as well.

Chapter 4: The G-Man Makes a Plan

Seeley Booth watched as Bones woke up. He had already pulled his hand away from her shoulder, from her burning cheek. He saw that her eyes were open, but they were definitely glassy. She sat there, and he thought about how eerie it was to see the lack of comprehension in her eyes.

"Hey, Brennan," he asked hesitantly, "you still with me?" That seemed to get the gears turning, however slowly. She looked up at him, the thoughts slowly falling into place behind her eyes.

"Uh, yeah. Sorry." She said. "Let me get my things." Her voice sounded rough and Booth was willing to bet that talking hurt like hell. Making no comment, though, Booth began to pull out her bags from the overhead compartment. While he was reaching up for one of the bags, she asked.

"Did you get any sleep?"

He stiffened, her question reminding him of his suspicions that she was only pretending to sleep, that she was actually sulking. He shook that thought off and answered. "Nah, I wasn't that tired." He felt the silence, and was uncomfortable, so he added in an off-handed kind of way "I was thinking about the case."

Perhaps it was a test, certainly an unnecessary one. He already knew that she was…not quite herself. He escorted Temperance from the plane. She made some half-hearted grabs for her two bags, and then gave up much too soon. But she didn't seem to think anything of his comment:

'I was thinking about the case.'

It should have been like a red flag to a bull. She, normally, would have dug her claws into that admission, and hung on for dear life, until he had shared what it was about the case that he'd been thinking.

He didn't want her to be sick. What the hell were you supposed to do when someone was sick?

Booth was preoccupied with that question, when he heard a harsh cough from behind. Looking around, he watched as Bones slowed her steps, concentrated on the coughing fit that she was having, and then stopped to lean against the wall while she caught her breath.

Booth was by her side in a few short steps. She was listing a little to the left, and he was afraid that she would topple over. He found his hands on her shoulders, trying to steady her, before a conscious thought had invaded his mind. Then, she was looking up at him, and the misery on her face was heart wrenching. Or perhaps, it wasn't misery. Perhaps it was shame. Brennan looked ashamed that her body was betraying her in this way.

"I'm sorry," she admitted.

"S'okay," he replied.

She seemed embarrassed for needing his help, so he slowly let her shoulders go and bent to pick up the bags once again. They walked slowly towards their departure gate; Booth making sure that his strides had been shortened and slowed to match the pace that was comfortable for her.

Bones sank down in the first empty set of chairs they found and just sat. Had she ever been so still before? Even when sitting, Booth remembered her fidgeting, or perhaps what he remembered was her gaze constantly moving, reading the people around her, looking for the stories of their lives in their behavior. Shaking his head to throw off those thoughts, Booth pulled himself together. Obviously, he was going to have to take charge.

Making sure to keep the doubt or the pity from his voice, Booth asked "Can you watch the bags?" She nodded, rather apathetically, and settled a bit more deeply into the chair. Booth sighed softly and then walked away from Bones.

He, now, was a man on a mission. The question still was "what do you do for a sick person?" The easiest answer was "go shopping." It was simple to locate one of the over-priced "convenience" shops. Booth began to make a mental checklist.

_Something for her fever…something for her fever…aha! Aspirin! That was a fever reducer. Something for her cough – easy one – cough drops, of course. Now, what else did sick people get? Orange juice, maybe? What about tea? Nah, it should be one or the other. Definitely orange juice. _

As Seeley approached the register with his selections, he noticed a selection of travel-sized items, including small packs of tissues. He didn't remember hearing her sniffling, but maybe that would come later. At the very least, the tissues would never go bad. After he paid and was making his way back to Bones, he found he was feeling very proud of himself.

"Just call me Florence Nightingale." He murmured softly.

Brennan was still sitting with a glazed-over look in her eyes when Booth settled himself beside her. He saw her glance briefly at the bag in his hand, but imperceptibly shrugged. If she didn't snap out of it soon, he was going to drag her to the ER. This wasn't Brennan sitting next to him.

When he offered her two aspirin, she looked at the white pills in his hand as though they were foreign objects. He stifled another sigh as he reached for her hand and dropped the tablets in her palm. That still didn't make the medication register in her mind.

"It's aspirin," Booth told her with as much gentleness as he could muster. Surprisingly, being gentle with this Temperance Brennan was easy. "It'll help bring your fever down." As he studied her face, the lines around her eyes suddenly jumped out at him. Taking a wild guess, he said, "It might help with the headache as well."

Bones nodded, and popped the pills in her mouth. Booth suddenly scrambled for the juice he'd brought along for her. "Sorry! I've got some juice for you to wash that down with." She took it with another nod, and took a long drink. She seemed so far away, and Booth was getting that lost feeling again. Mounting a defense against that helplessness, he began to rattle off the other items he had thought to buy.

Bones listened to the list, nodding as he explained his reasoning for the cough drops, offered her a view of the tiny pack of tissues, and mentioned why he had gotten her only orange juice. She turned away then and seemed to be studying her orange juice. It wasn't until she grabbed the lid from him and screwed it back on the bottle with shaking hands that he realized that something was up.

Looking at her, Booth realized that a tear was making its slow way down her cheek. A tear? He watched, frozen and little bit helpless, as Bones drew her knees into her chest and hid her face behind the fall of her hair. She was sniffling, and he was positive that she hadn't been before. It didn't sound like she was crying, at least, not sobbing. She was holding herself so still, though, and he knew…he just knew.

Holy shit, he'd made Temperance Brennan cry.

If Seeley Booth had been born a woman, he definitely would have been a hand-wringing type of woman. What was he supposed to do now! All he could think of were a litany of curse words that he'd learned – and often used – during his stint in the military. Not helpful.

Finally, Booth reached out a tentative hand and laid it on her shoulder. Receiving no reaction – either positive or negative – Booth slowly began to rub small circles on Tempe's back. Still no response from the bundle of misery to his left, so Booth leaned closer, resting his chin on top of her bent head, and began to croon, much as he would have for his son:

"Shhhh, it's okay. It's okay. I know. I know. Rough day, I know." Meaningless phrases that would have gotten him a punch in the nose if he'd tried this on any other day. Even as he continued to rub her shoulder, her back, he could feel the tense muscles relaxing, but she still stayed curled up.

_Why? What now? Why didn't women come with instruction manuals for the love of god?_

That thought distracted him slightly, and suddenly, Booth had the image of the reactions of his fellow agents should he try to explain what happened in the airport:

Disbelief would color their voices.

"Wait! Are you saying that you made Dr. Temperance Brennan cry?"

"Really? The Temperance I'll-kick-your-ass-so-hard-it'll-come-out-your-nose Brennan? _pfft_ Tell me another one, Booth."

"Nah, I don't believe it."

Just as suddenly, Seeley Booth was smothering a chuckle. It wasn't funny. It truly wasn't…and yet…it was.

"Hey," he said to Brennan. "Hold on to this for a second." He offered her the pack of tissue, and then began to rifle through her backpack.

He heard her opening the pack, then blowing her nose, but he resolutely continued to search through her bag. Finally, she croaked at him "What are you doing." She paused, and then added "that's my bag."

"You still have that digital camera, right?" He asked.

"Yeah, why?" She asked back.

"Where is it?"

"Why?"

"Well, I was just thinking…the guys at the office are never going to believe that I made you cry. I'm going to need actual evidence." Booth looked up from his search, and for the first time that day, he had the devilish twinkle back in his eye.

Tempe stared at him as though he were insane. Her mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. As Booth began to chuckle at her, he sat up, giving up the search.

Finally, Bones found her tongue. "You. Wouldn't. Dare."

"Are you kidding?" Booth asked, his voice full of laughter. "I'll be the hero of the bureau for at least…" he considered "…an hour. Maybe two. I'll be a legend."

Temperance leaned towards Booth, and held his eyes steadily with her own. "I will kick your ass so hard it'll come out your nose." She threatened. As he started to laugh once again, she cocked her head in confusion. He then reached out and brushed her cheek gently with one knuckle.

"That's my Bones." He reached down and picked up the bottle of juice. Offering it to her, he said "Drink! You probably haven't eaten all day. I'll bet your blood sugar is low. This will make you feel better."

Temperance settled back in her seat and obeyed. Surprisingly, she did feel better…just a bit. Her headache was fading into the background, and her throat didn't ache as fiercely.

"Hey, Booth."

"Yeah, Bones."

"Thanks."

"My pleasure."

TBC…?

A/N: This is where the story should end…allowing you, the reader, to assume that Booth gets Bones safely home. However, the fiendish Ataea has convinced me that there must be more, MORE B/B hurt/comfort. I have one additional chapter that I added to this story, but I will point out that this is the most natural stopping point. Chapter 5 is gilding the lily…just so you know.


	5. Chapter 5: Be It Ever So Humble

WHEN FLU BUGS BITE by: Arianna Malone

Disclaimer: I have only borrowed the characters Temperance Brennan and Seeley Booth. I do not own either of them. All I did was ask if the three of us could hang out for a while. I'll see to it that they make it home safely to their real owners – Josephson Entertainment and Far Field Productions in association with Twentieth Century Fox Television.

A/N This chapter is completely unnecessary to the story. However, I wanted to add more Hurt/Comfort. It didn't work out as well as I'd hoped. However…please enjoy the final chapter of "When Flu Bugs Bite".

Please see the end of this chapter for an additional Author's Note.

Chapter 5: Be It Ever So Humble, There's No Place Like Home

It was only slightly before six o'clock when Booth pulled his SUV up in front of Brennan's apartment. She was already stirring from her nap that started, more or less, when they had reached the vehicle in the airport parking garage. Without saying anything, Booth left the car and began to pull her bags from the back.

"I think I can manage by myself, now." Brennan offered. The uncertainty in her voice came from the doubt that Booth would let her manage alone. The remainder of the trip home had changed Tempe from appreciating Seeley's care to being irritated by it. The man was the nursemaid from hell…and he was bossy to boot.

Booth snorted in response to her comment and then added, for good measure, "You're not going to get rid of me that easily. Besides, I've seen your apartment before…unless you changed the décor to resemble a brothel, I don't think you have anything to embarrassed of."

Bones shook her head in exasperation, but didn't bother to explain to him that it wasn't that she didn't want him in her apartment…exactly. She was tired of being bossed around, being told what medicine to take when. She wanted to be able to make her own decisions about her health, a right that he had obviously decided to take away from her. Giving up this particular battle…again…she silently led the way into her building.

Once inside, Tempe directed Booth to the living room with a request that he drop the bags there. She then wandered in the direction of the front door, hoping that he would follow after her, that he'd be just as ready to leave as she was to have him gone.

No such luck.

As she was walking down the hallway, she heard the sound of her refrigerator door being opened. Tempe stopped and bowed her head. If she believed in the power of prayer, she'd be praying for patience right now. She then turned and strode back to the kitchen.

"What are you doing?" She demanded.

Booth smiled a little at the tone of her voice. He knew he was getting on her last nerve. He could honestly say that he truly wanted to help. That he was annoying her, just a little bit, was a total bonus.

"I wanted to be sure that you had something to eat and drink."

"Booth," Bones protested.

"And I'm glad I looked, because it appears that you are looking forward to a meal of…oh…sour milk, old Chinese takeout, and," he paused, "you have a choice of old baking soda or a jar of yeast." He looked up at Tempe and asked, "Don't you ever go grocery shopping?"

Temperance Brennan rarely bothered with diplomacy, and at the moment it was truly a struggle to keep the irritation out of her voice.

"Look, Booth, I seriously appreciate everything that you've done for me today. You were," she stopped, looking for the right words, "incredibly kind, and you really," oh, how she hated admitting things like this, "made the trip home easier for me."

Booth straightened up to look Brennan in the eye as she spoke, and she found that her desire to look away was almost uncontrollable…almost. Holding his gaze, she continued.

"Now that I'm home, all I want to do is to crawl into bed. I don't want to play hostess, I don't want to have you hovering over me and trying to anticipate what symptom is going to need attention next. Would you, please, just go home?" When there was no reaction, she added with a hint of desperation, "I'm begging you."

Seeley thought for a moment and then closed the refrigerator door. He took a deep breath and, as seriously as he could, said "Bones, is there any way that we can compromise?"

Her face showed her confusion, but before she could summon up a response, Booth was already walking towards the kitchen table. "Sit down, I want to talk about this."

Bones moved to the chair opposite him as she asked, "What is there to talk about?"

"I noticed today that you're not so good at being sick."

"'Not so good'?" Brennan repeated in disbelief.

"I mean, you made absolutely no move to take care of yourself. Even worse, you didn't tell me what was going on with you. It took me until Chicago – and using my considerable detective skills, I might add – to figure out that you felt like crap, that you had come down with the flu."

Booth's voice rose with the remembered helplessness that he had felt with the uncertainty of how to make things, make Bones, better.

Brennan was shocked into silence. What was there to say? She was stunned with the idea that it would have been okay to tell Booth that she was sick.

_Just how did one go about doing that? Would one do it in an off-hand sort of way? "Oh, hey, Booth, I'm glad to see that you made it on time for the flight. By the way, I feel like someone has rammed a red-hot poker down my throat." Surely not._

Booth took another deep breath to calm himself and then continued. "Look, Bones, I know that it's a little thing, and that if you had been traveling alone, you would have managed just fine. You would have been miserable, but you would have made it home more or less in one piece."

Seeley was frustrated with how the words were not coming out right at all.

"What I'm trying to say is that, when I realized how bad you were feeling, I got worried. I'm still worried. I know that you'll be fine, but you're obviously not functioning at a hundred percent." He stopped to make sure that she was paying attention. "I would feel better if I knew that you had things in your home that would fill your basic needs. You know, like food and medication."

Tempe sighed deeply. Booth was over-reacting, and it looked like he wasn't going to stop any time soon.

"What do you want to do?" She asked, tiredly.

Booth thought for a moment. "You really want to go to sleep."

"Yes, I really want to go to sleep." There was a great deal of irritation in her voice as she confirmed his understanding of her one, overwhelming desire.

Ignoring her tone, he continued, "and I would feel better about doing a little bit of shopping for you."

"So…"

"So, if you let me borrow your keys, I can slip out for groceries, slip back in, and leave you to sleep the sleep of the just. I'll feel better knowing that you have supplies, and you will be able to fall into bed." Booth watched as Bones thought about the offer. "Do we have a deal?"

Considering that Temperance knew he wasn't going to back down, there was only one way for her to reply.

"We have a deal." She reached into her pocket, pulled out her ring of keys and offered them to Booth. "I can trust you not to do anything inappropriate with these, right?"

Booth took the offered keys in one hand, while bringing the other hand up to cover his heart. "You wound me. I would never to anything inappropriate…ever." Before she could reply, he changed the subject. "Is there anything I should avoid getting, supply-wise?"

Brennan shook her head, mid-yawn, and then answered "No, not that I can think of."

Booth smiled. "Good. Go to sleep. I'll leave your keys on the kitchen table after I get back."

Tempe heard Seeley return with the groceries. She drifted in and out of sleep to the sound of him emptying bags and putting items away. It could have been minutes or hours later, when she realized there was a presence in her room.

"Practicing your stalking skills?" Tempe asked Booth's hulking shadow.

"I just wanted to check in on you one last time," was the quiet reply.

"I'm fine." She told him, quietly…gently.

The room was still as Tempe began to slide back into sleep. Drowsily, she felt the gentle tug and pull as her blankets were straightened around her.

_I think Booth is tucking me in,_ was her last coherent thought of the night.

What she didn't hear, before Booth finally crept out of her room, was how he bid her good night. There was a whisper of a kiss on her temple and a murmur of "Pleasant dreams, Tempe."

The End, for now.

A/N Oy! That last chapter was a bugger to write!

And now, dear readers, I want to say thank you to everyone who left feedback for me. Not only does it mean a lot to hear that people enjoyed this little escape from reality, but I also received some comments that will really help me make choices when I write my next stories.

I am going to continue this story under the title "Bad Decisions and the Blues". I've been asked to expand the h/c aspect of Brennan's bout of the flu…and since I'm pretty easy (ask my cat, there's a reason that he's 17 pounds of pure feline lovin'), I'm going to do what I can. This is my warning for all of you…I expect that the continuing saga will be…um…a little further from the realm of reality. I'll do my best to keep it real, but you will probably have to suspend your disbelief even more than you did for this one.

Thank you!


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